When I Fall
by Seamus-Spike
Summary: Vito Kenneth has had enough of life and he's not going down alone. Will Team One be able to stop him in time or will he drag down with him when he falls? Mild language, content may offend some people.
1. Chapter 1

Vito Kenneth was staring at the ceiling. The great lethargy that had been threatening to engulf him for almost two months held him captive to the spider web cracks in the white plaster ceiling. He could hear the scuttling legs of a rat and sat up slowly to face the rodent who was eating the cereal he had poured a few hours ago. Vito had given up on the rats. If they wanted to eat his food he was not going to stop them. In a few hours he would have no need for food. Or the cracked plaster ceiling. After pulling himself into the sitting position the weight that had held him down seemed to drain from his body, replaced by the anger and nervous energy that had fought with the lethargy for the past few months. Vito cricked his neck loudly and ran his right hand through is grease spiked hair. His forehead puckered as he felt the widow's peak forming. He checked his watch. 02:00 hours. Still another eight agonizing hours before... Reaching under the sweat stained bed Vito pulled two boxes. One was candy apple red decorated with a large gold ribbon and a fine layer of dust. The other was the box for the size ten Doc Martens which decorated his feet. Carefully he lifted the lid off the Doc Marten box and withdrew a zip lock bag of gun powder, a length of wire and a wrench. Cautiously, Vito began to loosen the pipe below his kitchen sink careful not to disturb the red and yellow gasoline containers he had stored there earlier that night.

~Three Hours Later~

The corners were pulled tight on the blankets of Lucas Richard's single bed and the pillow was strapped in under the clingwrap tight covers. He was pushing ninety but there was no way he was going to waste what remained of his life in the confines of a bed. Young people had no idea what they missed by sleeping in until noon; however, as he looked out his window through the early fall mist; he could not wholly blame them for staying in the confines of their beds. The streets were littered with the light fearing vampires of the nocturnal carnival of vices and games that humanity should have abandoned at the first light of Creation. Directly across from him a man was slumped over: drunk, overdosed or dead or any combination of the three. What did it matter to Lucas, either way he was beyond his help and, he decided, probably beyond God's help too. Slowly Lucas made his way to the chair where he had laid out his clothes from the night before. The black slacks went on easily enough but the arthritis in his shoulders made adorning the black shirt hard. The grey cardigan was easy enough to shrug into. Stiffly he made his way to his mirror and combed his near transparent, thinning hair and slid in his dentures. Finally before leaving his room he placed the white tab in his collar and stepped out towards the church. Father Richard was on the clock.

~Five Hours Later~

Madison Greene could think of over a hundred better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon than in "training" for her confirmation. Her friends were all going to the mall and then to the food court and she was stuck listening to an old geezer talk for four hours. Dressed head to foot in what her mother called "sensible clothes" Madison walked down the street to the local church, texting her best friend Liz.

Where r u?

'Rents r making me go to church :(

Sux 2 b u

Yea h8 goin. creepy guy always hangs out there

Is he cute :P

Kinda but looks sad. G2G h8er coming

Madison slid her cell phone into her plaid fall coat and slid on a smile to her face as Father Richard greeted her at the door, "Good morning Father." She beamed as she blessed herself and genuflected. She could see a few of the class of twenty hanging out in the pews near the front, all of them looked just as excited as her to be there. She slid in next to Darren Martin who blushed scarlet and mumbled a quiet hello. Madison smirked to herself, she loved tormenting Darren. She knew he had a huge crush on her. Everyone did. She looked into the right wing and saw the sad man, kneeling in a back pew holding a rosary. His hair was dark and spiky and he had one of those stubbly beards that some people thought were so hot. He looked up and Madison smiled at him before turning to talk to the person on the other side of Darren.

~.~

Vito had just finished his twelfth Hail Mary when his watch beeped 10:00. He glanced up. A pretty girl with wavy shoulder length hair and an orange and brown checked jacket was checking him out. She smiled at him and turned back to her peers. Her eyes were a cold grey. She looked like a young Jill. His heart ached for a second before turning back to stone. Sentiments would do nothing in a situation like this. They all had to die, they were poison, a poison that slowly permeated through society. The new Stasi, and there was their Führerdown the aisle thinking he was doing good. Vito cocked the pistol in his jacket and stood up.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas locked the door behind Madison Greene and watched her go to taunt Darren. The great lock clicked and echoed just audibly over the low buzz of conversation from the students. Slowly he made his way up the nave obstructing the dull bands of patchwork light forcing its way through the grimy stain glass windows. He saw the young man who had been coming everyday for the past few months coming towards him: hadn't he seen Lucas lock the door? Normally this dark stranger looked woebegone and dishevelled but now there was a spark of fire in his eyes that made his face swim with an emotion. Was it happiness? No that wasn't right. Excitement? Maybe. Anger... Lucas sensed the gun before he felt it pressed against his side. The stranger leaned down and whispered in his ear, "To the front Padre and make it quick."

The strange duo frog marched to the altar. The twenty or so kids looked up confused when they saw the strange man who had joined their teacher. It was the man who normally sat at the back of the church and prayed when they had their classes. The couple edged towards the priest's chair and the man roughly shoved the elderly priest into it. Then he went to work with the duct tape, ensuring that the aged clergy man could not move. Then he taped what looked like a piece of plumbing to the front of the man. Madison had seen enough movies and television programs to know what this meant.

She reached into her coat pocket and deftly began texting Liz again.

"Get your dad over here. Guy with a bomb"

~.~

Wordy hated working Saturdays, especially when he was working the first eight hour shift. Six to two. It meant there was just enough time to get in an hour's sleep before he had to head over to his buddy's place where they would load up a truck and go out to paint another suburban home. He had barely seen Shel all week and she was edging on her ninth month. At this rate he would be working when his next child came into the world.

Climbing into the minivan at half five in the morning he waved at Shel and Allie and backed out of the drive way. His two elder daughters were still asleep but Allie never missed a chance to hang out with her Daddy. Hell nor high-water would bring Elizabeth anywhere near him, not since she started the sixth grade. Becky, the middle child for now, emulated her older sister so Wordy and Allie were hanging out more and more.

Bittersweet thoughts about how fast his girls were growing up carried Wordy to the Lane residence. Ed was waiting on the front step which was good, Sophie and Ed always seemed to be arguing over something that Ed had forgone in order to do something related to the job. Wordy's forehead furrowed momentarily as he thought about how Ed treated his family but by the time he had entered the van any sign of what Wordy thought of Ed's behaviour was gone. No greetings were exchanged just two simple nods of the head. It was too early for pleasantries and the dank darkness did nothing to speed up either mans desire to speak.

With the lack of caffeine and no stimulating conversation Wordy's mind tuned out until they arrived at the SRU headquarters. A steady and chilly drizzle had started and was beginning to leak into the underground parkade, so with their sports bags slung over their shoulders and hands deep in their jacket pockets they ran for the door. They hit it just as Leah splashed in on her motorbike. Wordy held the door for the few seconds it took her to dismount and run for the entrance.

The three of them traipsed to their respective locker rooms and changed into their uniforms. Foregoing the full shirts as they hit the gym. By six the rest of the team had arrived and at quarter after the Sarge called them into the briefing room to arrange who would do what today:

Seven and Six, entry... Wordy and Leah

Five, DD's... Spike

Four, less lethal... Jules

Sierra one... Ed

Sierra two... Sam

Negotiations... himself

With that the briefing was over and the team hit the range. First they tested their long range prowess. Jules managed to edge Sam out of the top spot this week, meaning that with a little luck she wouldn't have to do the clean up this week. At about nine the team still hadn't received a call so they entered the close range practice area. With the rolls of thunder and cracks of lightening entering the maze of cardboard cut outs was strangely surreal. Leah had just successfully made it through the jumble of targets when Wordy's phone pulsed. He whipped it out as Spike entered the maze.

"Wordsworth."

"Dad?" It was Elizabeth, his stomach tightened. Lizzie never phoned him at work unless something was wrong.

"What is it Lizzie? Is Mom alright?"

"Dad, Maddie just texted me. She says someone at her church had a bomb. Dad I'm scared Maddie would never text that to me as a joke and I tried to text her back but she's not responding. I don't know what to do."

~.~

Madison had just managed to hit send before the man took out his gun and leant on the altar. No one moved. Then he smiled a crazy smile and said, "I'm going to come around with a bag. All cell phones, PDA's and whatever new crap your parents have bought you need to go into the bag. Those who resist will be shot. No questions asked."

The preteens all dug around in their pockets for their phones, except Darren. Madison and everyone at her elementary school knew Darren's mom worked three jobs just to keep them above the poverty line. He didn't have a phone. When the man got to their pew and saw Darren hadn't pulled out a phone. A pucker came across his forehead and his hand flew to his receding hair line. He motioned Darren forward. He whispered in his ear and Darren shook his head nervously. The man pat down the boy's coat pockets and jeans pockets and then let him sit down. Madison felt slightly reassured at this point; the man was obviously not as crazy as she thought. She squeezed Darren's hand and gave him a weak smile. He smiled a sad smile back.

Their relief was short lived. The man grabbed Madison by the back of the neck and dragged her to the front of the church. Darren shot up, fists clenched but the man raised his pistol to her neck before talking to the quivering boy. "Your girlfriend will get it unless you do as I say." Darren loosened his fists, nodded and the man continued, "In my pew there are five containers of gasoline. If you could be so kind as to pour two over the altar area and the other three down the aisles I would be much obliged." A few of the kids began to whisper, and the man must have heard conspiracy in their tones because he added, 'Gasoline is highly flammable. If I were to, say, shoot one of you the entire place will go up in flames. So don't give me a reason."

~.~

Wordy hung up, his daughter's words ringing in his ears. Greg, ever perceptive noticed Wordy's apprehension. "What is it Wordy, Shelly go into labour?" Wordy shook his head.

"Lizzie just called she got a text from her best friend asking her to tell me that a man with a bomb was in her church."

Ed came over and looked at Wordy's cell where Madison's words were emblazoned. Lizzie had forwarded the message. "Do you know who or where this person is?"

Wordy ran his hand through his short hair and answered, "uh yeah, Madison Greene. Her parents go to St. Catherine's so I'd assume that where she is. I'll call her parents now."

"Don't let them in on what's going on." Suggested Greg, "The last thing we need is for them to go down to the church and escalate matters."

Wordy scrolled through his phone book and found the Greene Family and waited as the phone dialled. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then on the third ring it abruptly stopped and there was dead air for a second.

"Hello?"

"Hi Michelle, its Kevin. Lizzie was wondering if Madison could come over here but she can't seem to get a hold of her."

"Oh, she's at church right now. Confirmation class."

"Where's she taking it?"

"St. Cat's on the Danforth. I'll tell her that Lizzie wants to get a hold of her.

"Thanks Michelle. Say hi to John."

"Bye Kevin."

The phone was dead before Michelle could get her last syllable out and the seven members of team one were running towards the garage, pulling on and buttoning their black overshirts. Two nondescript black SUV's ripped out of the garage followed by a van stamped with the words "mobile command". All three vehicles had their red and blue lights rolling as they made their way towards the church.


	3. Chapter 3

The church reeked of gasoline and the kids were feeling jittery, starting to get high off the fumes. Vito was not getting high. He worked in a garage and the fumes were nothing new. The boy pouring the fuel had sat down and Vito, good to his word, released the girl. She was no longer smiling at him. She had a look of utter horror on her face, the same look Jill had had on when Vito had shown what he had become for her. He turned away the soft spot in his heart returning. Then the priest's pale eyes fixed on his and his granite heart returned in full. He faced his 'captive' audience.

"Now I am sure you are all wondering why I am here and why I am doing this. The answer is this man." he pointed to the clergy man. "He's filled your pretty heads with lies. And you are like faucets, spreading this man's vitriol. I have seen you," he pointed at a petite blonde girl, "use racist slurs to talk about a girl at your school. And you," he singled out a boy in the front row, "beat up a boy at school for being smaller than you. I believe you called him a 'fag' because of it." A grimace passed over his face and angry flickered before being doused by a calming wave that left his face more frightening than before. "Lies and filth between your ears. So I have decided to test you in fire. This is what this man made me do and my beloved Jill. We both failed. Will you?"

Silence followed this pronouncement. Then a girl sniffled into her coat sleeve.

~.~

The early morning rain had kept the streets relatively clear and the flashing blue and red lights had sped team one through the muted morning towards St. Catherine of Siena. On the way to the church Spike had radioed in for blueprints and as they arrived Greg dispatched the team members to check the doors. Wordy had tried the front doors while Ed, Jules, Sam and Leah tried the other four doors. Consensus confirmed that all five doors were locked and bolted. Before all of the team members could rendezvous Spike got out the snake cam and Wordy had run it under the main door just as Leah returned from checking the basement doors. In the mobile command van Spike inhaled and twisted the knob responsible for zooming in and out.

"Alright, we've got eyes and ears in."

"What do we have, Spike." Came Greg's gentle voice.

Spike adjusted the camera some more. Clustered near the front of the church there were, one, two, four, ten...eighteen... well there was no other word for them, kids. At the very front there was an elderly man, judging by the white tab visible above the lines of duct tape he was the parish priest. Strapped to his chest was a well made pipe bomb. A work of art, thought Spike, had it not been taped to a man's chest. Then there was the man, leaning on the altar. It was hard to tell but it looked like he had something in his hand. Then he waved his hands around and Spike saw a small silver hand gun. He dimly heard noise and boosted the volume and the man's crackly voice came into sharp relief, "...filth between your ears. So I have decided to test you in fire. This is what this man made me do and my beloved Jill. We both failed. Will you?" and that's when Spike saw the telltale fumes radiating from the floors.

"We've got a single white male. Late twenties or early thirties. Armed with a semi automatic hand gun. Nineteen hostages. Eighteen kids and one elderly man, most likely the priest. The priest has a pipe bomb taped to him and to make matters worse someone seems to have splashed the place in gasoline. No guns, no dummies, no flashbangs, nothing with a spark. He is staying something about testing them in fire."

Ed's voice broke in, "We need to air that place out." He looked at his wristband display unit which was broadcasting the blueprints Spike had requested, "All the doors except the main one are out of view of the front altar so we can start there. Sarge, you feel like talking this guy down yet?"

"Spike, we got any info on this guy? Has he let slip a name yet?" enquired Jules.

"Not yet but I'll take a screen cap and send it to Winnie to see if our boy's in the facial rec. system."

"Patch me into the audio," injected the Sarge, "I want a little more information on the guy before I begin talking to him."

"Righto"

~.~

This man was crazy was all Father Richard could come to comprehend, as the quiet prayerful man of the past few months duct taped him to his chair. When the crazy man had gone to collect the kids' cell phones, the elderly cleric began working to free his mouth. Puffing his cheeks out, wetting the duct tape with his tongue. Slowly he felt it begin to loosen until one corner freed itself from his cheek. This coincided with end of the man's speech. Before the speech Lucas had wondered who this man could be but after the speech he knew who the man was. And the lies that spewed from his mouth were burning the elderly man's ears. Jill, the beautiful, kind girl from his congregation. He did not have her blood on his hands it was this man that had caused her to do what she had done. He carefully parted his ancient and now sticky lips, "Jordan, you killed Jill, not me."

The man's face went ridged and when he spoke it was a dangerous tone, "I'm no longer Jordan. I passed through fire to be here looking down at you. I'm Vito Kenneth. You know what that means Padre, I'm life born of fire. Literally. I only just survived the wrath of your spleen."

"Jordan, you're going to kill innocent children over your own mistakes."

Vito snorted, derisively and muttered under his breath, "There as innocent as I am and I've made my life on killing."

Lucas heard him, "There is a special place in hell for you, Jordan."

"Et tu brute, Padre. But you see, unlike you, I don't care about what's coming. You see I've always wanted to travel somewhere warm." And with that he crossed the distance to the cleric and pistol whipped him. Father Lucas Richard's head fell with a grunt to his chest and he knew no more.


	4. Chapter 4

A quick disclaimer: Do not spam me with hate when you read this (not that anyone has just it has happened in other forums, i.e. School, work). It is fictional story, a word whose root is based on the Latin word "fictum" meaning created. Everyone is entitled to an opinion but I do not need more people slagging me. So if you do not like it feel free to express your displeasure in a polite manner. – Thank you, Mike

~.~

Leah had traded spaces with Spike, since bombs were his speciality and since she had never been in the command post. When she looked up at the screen she saw the elderly priest was attempting to talk. She boosted the volume and the crackly voices came through at just above the audible level.

".. you killed Jill, not me."

Then the man responded, "I'm no longer Jordan. I passed through fire to be here. I'm Vito Kenneth, life born of fire."

"Jordan, you're going to kill innocent children over your own mistakes."

The man with the gun responded under his breath and the priest angrily responded, "There is a special place in hell for you, Jordan."

The man's face was stone as he turned towards the elderly minister, "Et tu brute, Padre. But you see, unlike you, I don't care about what's coming. You see I've always wanted to travel somewhere warm." The gun flashed and Leah thought he had fired but the cleric slumped over, victim to the butt of the gun not its bullets.

Just after this dramatic play Ed, the team leader, radioed in that all of the doors had been successfully cracked open except for the main door. The Sarge entered the van, having heard what happened, and Leah rewound the tape showing him exactly what had transpired.

"So the name is Vito Kenneth?" Asked Leah, "Or Jordan something or other which is it?"

"We'll have Winnie run Vito Kenneth and cross-reference with any Jordan's. We'll see what we get. He's giving off all the earmarks of being a man acclimatized to violence. It's likely he'll be in the system." Answered Greg, dialling Winnie as he spoke. The phone rang for half a tone before Winnie answered.

"Winnie, I'll need you to pull up a name, last name K-E-N-N-E-T-H Kenneth, first name Vito."

There was silence except for the taping of computer keys for a couple of agonizing seconds, and then Winnie's voice broke the quiet, "He was arrested at the beginning of the month on a vandalism charge. Caught vandalizing the Prince Edward viaduct and then proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs when the officer tried to remove him. I'll email you a photo." Greg's phone beeped and the armed man's face popped up on the screen, looking worse for wear. His eyes were bloodshot and the skin around it infected, tell tale signs of pepper spray. A smudge of red paint or blood stained his left cheek and a resilient leaf stuck in his hair.

Greg sighed, "Yep that's him Winnie. Can you run his SIN number see what else you can find?"

"Sure," and again the phone when quiet except for taping keys. "Hmm," Started Winnie into the silence."

"What?" asked Greg.

"Vito Kenneth didn't exist a before eighteen months ago. The social insurance number was registered to Jordan Hayes. Same DOB as your guy."

"And what happened to Mr. Hayes?"

"Miss Hayes." Corrected Winnie, "Jordan is a girl. Did a five year stint in the army. Discharged honourably." There was a pause, the sound of computer keys tapping and then an exclamation, "Woah, Jordan disappeared a year after she came back from her tour. She was missing a year and some change. When she got back she successfully petitioned to have her name changed to Vito Kenneth."

"So Vito used to be Jordan."

"Uh huh"

"Do you have a number for Jordan or Vito's emergency contacts?"

"Vito's only contact is a Jillian Matthews, deceased"

"Jillian Matthews, that name sound familiar."

"It should, she's the one that sawed through the Luminous Veil to jump off the Prince Edward Viaduct. It was a big story a couple months ago, front page spreads, pictures, the whole nine yards. Some people ran with it, raising questions about the effectiveness of the Veil and the right of the province to stop people from committing suicide the way they want to commit suicide."

"What's the connection between the Jillian and Jordan?"

"According to info the two were married in late 2005 and Matthews filed for divorced just before Hayes returned to Canada."

Greg let out a low whistle. "Thanks Winnie."

Greg sat back thinking when Leah's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Sarge, you should see what he doing."

His eyes snapped to the screen and despite all his years on the job, all of the horrible things he had seen, he felt the blood drain from his face and his jaw tighten in unmistakable fear.


	5. Chapter 5

Expletives ran through Greg's head as he left the van at top speed. Kenneth was handing out pills. And god knew what kind of pills they were. It could be Jonestown in there in a matter of minutes. He motioned to Wordy, the entry specialist, to crack open the front doors. He was going in.

~.~

They looked like tic tacs but they were actually sleeping pills. Vito's shrink had given them to him but he didn't want to sleep. He placed two pills in each of the kids' hands. The children need not suffer unduly. He was not a cold blooded murderer; he had a code of ethics. There would be no pain it would be like falling sleep, they wouldn't feel the flames beginning to lick their ankles or feel the smoke blacken their lungs. Vito pressed on but the fumes were beginning to get to him. Jill looked at him, no the girl who looked like Jill looked at him. He placed a pill in her hand and moved on down the row.

~.~

Madison saw the captor's features pucker again as he handed her two small white pills and saw the same sad man who had sat praying through all of their lessons, but only for a moment. Next thing she knew the same expressionless face that had pistol whipped Father Richards pushed two pills into Darren's hand and continued walking down the pew. She hadn't heard anything from outside to say that Liz had got her text and that was worrying her, maybe she hadn't sent the text. Maybe Liz hadn't checked her phone. Maybe Liz's dad didn't believe her. Just as that point flooded over her Madison heard something behind her she whipped around. An older man in a baseball cap and police vest was walking into the church, his hands held up the universal sign of peace. He was alone and he did not appear to be armed.

"My name is Greg. I'm with the police strategic response unit" said the brave cop. Madison could see the flashing blue and red lights behind him, outside the door that was breathing in cool air into the stuffy, smelly church. She could think again.

"I'm Vito Kenneth and all I gotta say to you is that I am not crazy. It may not make sense to you but I have a reason for doing this."

"What reason could you have for wanting to kill these people?"

The man named Vito gesticulated towards the priest, "He's why. He leeches poison into the mind and it destroys you from the inside out. He killed the only person I ever loved."

"Who? Jordan or Jillian"

Anger sparked Vito's face but past quickly being replaced with a dangerous smile. "Ah you've done some research on me. No one would ever guess. The testosterone lowered my voice. It's also making me lose my hair making it more believable that I am a man. Surgery sharpened my facial structure, removed my breasts and ass. Oh and of course the ever important surgery to gain my manhood." Vito smiled sardonically and pointed at his groin. "I miss Jordan, I never really wanted her to go, but I never really loved her."

"Alright then who was Jillian?"

"Jill Matthews, was my wife, my lover, my better half until", his eyes teared up but his face was still set, "Padre here told her that our love was wrong and that it was a sin to live as we did. So I signed the divorce to save her from moral dilemmas. That's how much I loved her. Then I disappeared for a year, became Vito Kenneth for her, so we could be together. We were happy for a month then she asked him," Vito gestured to Father Richards' unconscious body, "if this was alright. Morally alright. And he said that we were even greater blasphemers than before.

Madison followed Vito Kenneth's movements. His shoulders were slumped and tears fell onto the altar. She could feel moisture in her eyes and that knot in her stomach that begot pity. Vito took a shuddering breath and continued.

"I came home one day and I couldn't find her. I'd assumed she'd gone to her mother's for the night. But she hadn't. And do you know how I found out what had happened to her?" Greg shook his head, "I read about it in the paper, it was in an article right next to a used car ad. Imagine finding out the woman you love's death has been deemed par with an advertisement for cars." Vito shook a tear from his eye, "The next day was worse, her picture was plastered everywhere. She became an icon for anti-suicide. A slur. A warning to the young. There was no peace in her death and this man, is responsible. He forced me at biblical gunpoint to take away my gender and then with that same gun he forced Jill to take her life. Jill was always there to catch me when I fell. And the one time she fell I couldn't catch her."

"What about the kids? They didn't do anything to you or Jill."

"Well Greg, you've heard that children are the future?" Started Vito, a bite of impatience clearing his eyes, "Well these children are the future of every stand point this bitter old man took. I can't just kill the seed; the offshoots must be pruned if tolerance is to flourish."

~.~

Madison stood up. She couldn't take any more of this. She had seen the way he'd looked at her. She had heard him call her Jill. She knew she had the power. Darren pulled her hand and she shook her head at him. Her shoes squeaked pathetically as she stood up and crossed in front of the police officer named Greg, stepping into the nave. Slowly she began walking towards the crazy man, twenty eyes following her progress; the only sound was the sound of her shoes squeaking her death march.


	6. Chapter 6

Vito noticed the girl getting up and start moving towards him. It was Jill; there was no doubt about it. An angelic form. She had a blue and red halo of strobing light. Her pale face had that determination she always had possessed in times of crisis. She fixed him with a stare, a stare that shone through him and saw the part of him that was still Jordan. The part of him that she had fallen in love with.

~.~

When the girl stood up Greg had nearly instinctively yelled out for her to stop. But then he saw Vito's eyes, tears filled them and the gun hung limply at his side and despite every brain cell yelling at him to stop the girl, he let her walk on, his gut feelings backing him up.

~.~

Madison could not believe what she was doing but she instinctually knew it was the right thing to do. This was crazy, at any second he could pull her back into the choke hold he'd had her in before and it would be curtains for her. She thought of her mother and father. She thought of Darren. She thought of love. Finally she reached the man with the gun. She held out a hand and he lightly grabbed hers. The gun twitched and he pulled her forward. Madison closed her eyes. He pulled her into a hug and she heard a clunk as the gun hit the floor. She didn't know what else to do but say, "It's alright" over and over again, holding tightly to Vito as he cried into the shoulder of her jacket.

~.~

In the van Leah, exhaled when the gun dropped. It signalled a change and barely before the metallic echo had faded Sam had cuffed Vito with zip ties and kicked away the gun. The shaking kids were evacuated a short time later and after a quick debriefing were sent on their way with their mortified parents. Team one headed back to HQ to fill out the paperwork and Vito was handed over into the custody of a uniformed officer.

It was ten minutes after two o'clock when Greg arrived at the Police Station. Vito Kenneth was eating a hole in his mind. Why? Was all Greg could think. A uniformed officer escorted Greg to the holding cell, where Vito was sitting praying the rosary.

Greg cleared his throat and Vito looked up, pain and swollen eyes contorting his face, "Hi Vito, it's me Sergeant Parker from the church."

'Hello, Greg." Came Vito's reply muffled because of congestion. "Have you come to gloat? The victors' rights?"

"No, I want to ask why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why all this happened?"

"It goes like this, once upon a time there were two women in love. They were nice women, but they had fights occasionally, as lovers do. So one of them, let's call her Jill, went to church for some counselling. The church was led by Father Lucas Richards and he lived for one reason, to "cure" gays, like we're some disease. The church got inside the head of Jill and made her hate herself and her one true love."

"So Jill wanted a divorce?"

"Yeah, because according to Father Richards, 'divorce is more holy than the state of sin you live in now.' He told her that 'women who commit indecent acts with other women will receive due punishment for their perversion.'" Quoted Vito, contempt clouding his face, "And all this scared Jill. She was raised Catholic. It was two of her strongest feeling being pitted against each other. True love against God's love, and I lost in the toss up." He finished bitterly.

"Then what happened?"

"I ran to Brazil, the sex change capital of the world. Because I loved her so much, so she could finally be with a man. I am a phoenix rising from the ashes." Smiled Vito.

"And did it help Jill?"

A frown puckered Vito's face and he pulled at his fringe again, "For a little while but Father Richards pulled her back. I couldn't even touch her in the end. Her eyes would fill with guilt and disgust. What I did to make her happy, you can't imagine." Anger and sadness distorted his face and he yelled, more to the world than at Greg, "You can't imagine." He buried his face in his hands.

Greg wanted desperately to pat the man's shoulder but the bars still divided him and the quivering and confused mass that was Vito Kenneth. Slowly, the man's breathing returned to normal and he looked at Greg. 'Why are you here, Sergeant Parker? You have enough to charge me already."

"Sometimes it is not enough to be able to; sometimes it is better to understand people."

"Understanding is something that there is not a lot of in today's world. War, hatred, racism. What is the object of this circle of misery, violence and fear? It must have a purpose, or else our universe has no meaning, which is unthinkable." Anger once again lined Vito's face, "But what purpose?"

The tears started to track his face as he stared up at Greg. Pity filled the Greg and he handed him a Kleenex, and Vito blew his nose and then looked into the grey eyes of the Sergeant and slowly said, "I lost the woman I loved and tried to kill the ones I hated and now there is only him and me. And a cleansing fire." Then quickly he broke his rosary and inhaled a fine powder that had been concealed within the crucifix's interior.

Just as quickly as Vito had inhaled the powder his body began to convulse and a scream rent the air of the holding cells, "On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way." The uniformed officers swarmed by Greg and carried the contorted man out of the cell.

As Vito was strapped into the gurney Greg ran for his car and with his flashing light on the dash followed the siren, towards Mount Sinai hospital. All of a sudden as the siren stopped and the ambulance slowed to regular speed, and Greg knew that sirens only preceded the livings entrance to the hospital.

~One Hour Later~

Slowly turning the pages of a magazine that was almost as old as he was, Greg looked up to find a technician standing in front of him holding what he had been wait for for the last hour: a toxicology report.

The young technician nervously said, "Sergeant Parker?" and Greg nodded, "The powder Vito Kenneth inhaled was magnesium sulphate. It's quite a nasty way to go. It's supposed to feel like your burning from the inside out." Greg nodded, jaw clenched and stood up to leave.

As he was passing the front entrance he saw an elderly man trying to get a cab but having no luck what so ever. He was going to blow by as people usually did in these situations but as Greg drew nearer he found it was Father Lucas Richards and he slowed to talk to the cleric. After introductions Greg agreed to drive the priest home. Both men were silent but as they pulled up to the church Greg could not hold back a question.

"Father, do you know what 'On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way' means?"

The priest smiled a small, sad smile and answered, "Gethsemane was where Jesus was resurrected. But Calvary was where he had to carry the cross. If one gets lost along the way they shall not be resurrected because they did not suffer the full weight of the cross." And with that remark he thanked the Sergeant and tottered towards the church.

As Greg drove home, he seethed. Father Lucas Richard had made a full recovery and every child had been saved physically unharmed. Yet somehow this wasn't enough. How had two lives not mattered? Father Lucas Richard and Madison Greene and her classmates would continue as they were. And file detailing all of this was waiting in a pile to be filed by Sid into a dusty filing cabinet, an all too symbolic reminder of how society was so good at forgetting the cost of human lives.

~.~

As Father Lucas popped out his teeth and placed them in a glass of water he reached for his medication. Placing the four pills in his gummy mouth he swallowed, catching his reflection in the mirror. Imposed over his reflection were words. His stomach began to bubble as he tottered forward and read: Life Born of Fire, written in red paint or blood. Next thing he knew he was on the floor writhing in agony as the full force of the magnesium sulphate hit his blood stream. One man heard Father Richards screams, a homeless man sitting across the street. But bitterness filled his soul almost as much as Father Richards and he slept all the better knowing that someone was worse off than he was.


End file.
